The Dark Den
by Rick Wilde
Summary: Nick couldn't understand it, how he ended up trusting this bunny cop in the few short days even though he was blackmailed and dragged around Zootopia was beyond him. The words that came from the small eager rabbit shattered him, for once he could not keep his emotions behind a mask, Nick felt hurt and lost... This is my first story feedback would be greatly appreciated, Thank you!


Lost

"You shouldn't have a predator as a partner" I shove the application form back to Judy's chest as I make my exit.

Her steps fall behind me increasing in pace as I near the exit.  
"Wait Nick! Nick! Please" I hear Judy call out trying to get my attention.

"Don't look back, do not look back; I won't be able to walk out of here if I do." I thought as I hear the reporters swarm around her whilst numerus questions about how I, the predator fox attacked her. As the doors close behind me, I look back feeling guilty, hurt and so immensely furious; furious at myself mainly because I let some rabbit make me feel this betrayed, that I a fox no less was willing to expose myself to a rabbit. 

Once leaving the precinct I become momentarily blinded by the sunny cloudless day as I expected a darker and dreary day, one which is cold, dark and unfair. "Never let them see that they get to you, for when they do; they won't care." I bitterly growl as I decided to push through the crowds on the lively paw-path; the scowl making any prey crossing my path become briefly struck with fear. They quickly change to a forceful smile as they have practiced numerous times in front of the mirror, yet no matter how much they practice ensuring that they never look fearful; it rarely matters as they can't hide their scent. "When I confronted Judy all I could smell was the stench of fear, it didn't matter what she said; her scent told me everything I needed to know. No matter how much I wanted her words to be true, her actions and scent spoke louder than her words." The crowds lessen as I continue to walk to the more predator owned housing, as prey lived in the inner most lively parts of the city, the housing is almost segregated by discriminatory prey that own most buildings.

"Yet I still thought Judy would be different, that somehow she was the exception; the only one that I thought I could open up to." The recognisable red van draws the attention from my thoughts as it veers around the corner, the strain of the engine piercing the sensitive ears of mammals within ear shot; the god-awful sound reminded me of the time in collage when Finnick and I, had the brilliant idea of putting a metal wrench in a blender, just to see what would happen. Over the past years I've concluded that Finnick decided to use that very same blender for his engine. He parks in the alley a few metres in front, "Where the hell have you been!?" Finnick snarls climbing out, glaring waiting for a response.

"Well you know how hustles are; some take time before we get any payoff" I slyly smile back at him.

"That's scat! And you know it, I saw the news, how you threatened that bunny cop. And I know you Nick; that was you losing your cool which never happens." Finnick's temper quickly flares as he starts pacing around stomping, he punches his van door and lets of a low growl, the type of which says I am trying to calm down but I swear to otter space I am to not be tested!

"And what exactly are you implying Finnick?" I question, ignoring his growls. 

He spins on his heels quickly shutting down anything else I question. "Quit lying to yourself Nick, your head has been out of the game for a long time now; where is the Nick that would come up with an amazing hustle, one where whoever would lose their livelihood and anything else they had to spare without even knowing it! Yet it seems for the past few months you've only come up with some weak hustles in which all we did was resell ice-cream. Then best of all you decided to play cop with that damn prejudice rabbit, and I don't hear from you at all. Then the next thing I know you're on the local damn news. About how predators like us are going to be forcefully muzzled and electrocuted by those shock collars, they already have it past regulations, you helped that Rabbit screw all of us over!" Finnick hops back into the driver's seat slamming his van door and turns the ignition. 

"What, did, you; shock collars? The hell do you mean shock collars!?" I shout over the sound of the clanking engine.  
" You should know! You said and I quote "These shock collars have greatly decreased my desire to maim and slaughter. It's says right there in Zootopia daily! No point in trying to deny it!" Finnick throws the newspaper out of the window. Revs his van creating a cloud of smoke emitting for the exhaust. "Friend or not I can't be seen working with you anymore, now excuse me I've got some real hustles to pull." With that Finnick recklessly pulls out onto the road, narrowly missing the rodents' cars driving along the gutter.

I kick the nearest thing in sight out of frustration, as it happens, the closest thing was a hamster walking down the street towards me. The force of the kick sends the hamster flying into traffic, hitting the windshield of a truck; the hamster bounces off it and lands in the nearby bushes.  
I freeze up in fear hoping no one saw the crime I've just committed, I wait for a sound, a movement; anything that indicates that I didn't murder that ball of fur.

The first sign of life that I get is hearing that high-pitched voice "Do you know who my fluffing father is!? You're going to wish that you never fluffing messed with the Goodwill Lamington family! All predators will burn!" Goodwill screamed as loud as his tiny lungs would allow, which thankfully was no louder than the strain of a passing hippo's van as he stormed off.  
I choose to forget about how close, I was to killing a mammal, and continue back to my five-star home. After an hour of walking half of which were through the slums known as Happy-town where most predators live. And the other half through weed infested fields I arrive home and crawl into my house just like my ancestors before me would, surviving in dens.

I lay down in my bed of dried grass hopping that the next day can't get any worse, well guess what; if experience has taught me anything it would be that it can and it will.

A/N: Hey everyone! This was a story I did quite a while back, I've been wanting to get back into writing, I'd love to hear back from anyone that read this, that'd be amazing, if I should continue this story or not.  
I feel that going back to the basics is always good.

Thank you for reading 3

~Rick Wilde


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